Black Box
by ijustwanttobeabritishman
Summary: The little black box held all the information they needed- but now it's fallen off the bridge. There is no other way to prove Gray's murder, but the box proves difficult to find. Anderson might be of help, if Sherlock would let him put in a sentence...


**No beta or spell check- all mistakes are mine. This is just something that sprouted in my mind and wouldn't go away. It's not very good, but I wanted to share it anyway.**

**EDIT: Thanks to my reviewer, Pinefresh65, for pointing out my error. **

**Black Box**

It was barely the size of John's fist, the little black box. Yet it contained everything Sherlock needed to solve this case. The note sealed inside this black box contained a written note of confession from Mr. Ionian Gray, who, incidentally, was now brandishing it over the side of the bridge, shouting something incoherent. John couldn't make out the man's features, as it was pitch black, but he could make out the small little black object in his hand.

Sherlock- there was no other word for it- _whooshed _past him and tried to grapple the small black box out if Gray's hands, and suceeded, but the other man knocked his hand across the back of Sherlock's head, sending the box down into the water. A _splash_ echoed, and Sherlock stared over the bridge, dumbfounded.

"Oi! You!" came Lestrade's voice from somewhere behind them. John gave a sigh of relief as the D.I. deftly caught up with the fleeing Gray, and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. "You got the box?"

"He threw it in the river," Sherlock said gloomily, motioning off the side of the bridge with a hand.

"We'll look for it in the morning; bloody freezing to go diving in a river now," Lestrade said, and made his way back to the police car, which was smattering red and blue lights across the bridge. Sherlock sighed.

"I'll ask Mycroft to arrange for some divers to look for it tomorrow," Sherlock muttered, loudly enough for most to hear.

"Erm, Holmes-" began Anderson.

"Home, John. I have no wish to attempt communication with monkeys today." Sherlock cut him off, smiling. At least one good thing had to come out of this failed night.

:~:~:~:~:~:

"It fell in somewhere over here," John told the man in the wetsuit who was peering over the edge.

"Vat doez it look like?" the man asked, still scanning the water.

"It's a small black box, about the size of my hand," John held up a fist to show the diver. The other man nodded, slipped on his mask, and dove in.

20 minutes later, the diver resurfaced.

"I can't vind it; it must have moved downstream. D'you vant me to look zhere inztead?"

"Whatever you think's best," John replied, looking at Sherlock for affirmation. the tall man nodded.

Anderson jogged up to them. "Holmes, I think you should know-"

"Not now Anderson. I would rather not degrade my intellect further than it is at present." Anderson scowled but pressed on.

"Holmes, I really think-"

"Go _away, _Anderson," Sherlock hissed, and Kieth rolled his eyes, making his way back to the police car.

:~:~:~:~:~:

When the diver had again been unsucessful, Sherlock decided to try and find the box himself.

However, this proved to be just as fruitless as the rest of the attempts. Sherlock, resigned to the fact that the box had probably been eaten by some sort of animal, retired to the flat, where he spent three and three quarters of an hour trying to figure out how to prove Ionian Gray's murder another way, which proved to be extremely difficult..

The doorbell rang.

"Enter," Sherlock mumbled, not really caring who it was-

"Holmes," Anderson stated.

"What. Do you want."

"I... uh, I have the box you were looking for," Anderson held out the black box, and Sherlock practically flew off the couch to stare at it.

"But- how- how-"

"I've been trying to tell you all week," Anderson said, annoyed. "Listen, it's a black box, right?" Sherlock nodded. "But it's only painted black." Sherlock nodded again. "This is made out of wood, Holmes." Sherlock cocked his head in confusion, not understanding what Anderson was getting at. "A wooden box _floats._"

Sherlock blinked.

Then he extended a hand to take the box from Anderson's hands.

"...Thank you, Anderson."


End file.
